


Never Mind the Doctors, Here’s the Followers of the Apocalypse!

by owlaholic68



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Punk, Band Fic, Everyone Is Gay, Mild Language, Musical References, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-09 22:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/owlaholic68
Summary: “The Followers of the Apocalypse? What kind of a band name is that?”





	1. When she walks, the revolution's coming!

Julie Farkas looks at her watch. She’s done with appointments for the morning, and if she runs over to the break room now, she can probably still catch Usanagi for ten or fifteen minutes. She shoulders past a traffic jam of gurneys with a multitude of apologies. She slips into a half-full elevator, ignoring a baby’s babbling during the short ride down to the third floor of the hospital. 

The break room also doubles as a lunchtime gathering space. The first person Julie stops to chat with is Ignacio, who is on his way out. Next up is Usanagi, who only has a few minutes to talk before she has to get back to work too. Not everyone’s lunch breaks line up at exactly the same time. 

“You wouldn’t  _ believe  _ who I ran into last night.” 

“Hello to you too, Arcade,” she says with a wry smile. “Pray tell.  _ Who  _ did you meet?” She sits down with him. 

He lowers his voice. “A politician. Some man dressed in such a  _ wonderful _ checkered suit.” He sighs. “I got hit on by a  _ politician _ , Julie.  _ Badly  _ hit on. I must be going to the wrong places.” 

“Or maybe it’s your look.” She waves a baby carrot at his outfit. “Did you even change out of your work clothes before going out last night?” He sheepishly shrugs, which is expected. “Come on, I have an idea to put a little more pep in your step! You’re going to love it.” 

“Am I?” He challenges. “Fine, hit me.” 

Julie reaches into her bag with one hand and grabs her phone, scrolling through her pictures before she finds the image she’d spent most of the week working on. “So, you play, right?” 

“Yes…” He squints suspiciously at her. “Keyboard, mostly, but I can pick up whatever.” 

“Great!” She claps her hands. “So I was thinking of getting some people together and starting a band! I’ve already got a name picked out, and the makings of a logo too. Here, look.” 

“The Followers of the Apocalypse? What kind of a band name is that?” 

Julie scoffs. “A punk one, obviously. Listen, I’m thinking me on vocals, and maybe Ignacio on bass, Usanagi on drums if she wants, get a little Arcade Fire-esque vibe.” She gives Arcade a pleading smile. “But we need someone on keyboard.” 

Arcade stares at her. “We work in a hospital, Julie. We’re doctors. We don’t have time to be in a band. And a  _ punk  _ band?” 

“I’ll just count you in.”

He rolls his eyes. “Somehow I knew you were going to say that.” 

She waits expectantly. He sighs. 

“Fine. I’ll try it out.” 

She fist-pumps in the air. “Perfect! I’ll text you more later.” 

* * *

This is not the first time they’ve jammed together, but this is by far the most formal session. They’ve agreed upon Usanagi’s house to practice, considering that her drumset would be a huge pain to move. Besides, she doesn’t have close neighbors. 

Even though she doesn’t need to, Julie knocks on the front door. She shifts her guitar case in one hand while holding a thick notebook in the other. 

“Julie!” Ignacio opens the door for her. “You know you don’t need to knock.” 

“It’s only polite,” she argues, and follows him to the living room. Usanagi’s house is simply and cleanly designed, potted plants tucked into every corner and a few concert posters the only evidence of her...rowdier hobbies. And speaking of rowdy, it seems like the party’s gotten started without her. 

Usanagi’s  _ kind of _ a singer. In the punk world, though, she’s pretty great, making up for what she lacks in natural talent with practice and plenty of enthusiasm. “Rebel girl, you are the queen of my world,” she sings, beating out a steady rhythm on her snare drum, her other drumstick making the ride cymbal to her right crash back and forth. “Rebel girl, rebel girl-”

“I think I wanna take you home,” Julie joins in, throwing her purse to the side and giving Arcade a nod. He’s giving Usanagi plenty of backup on his keyboard, heavy chords falling from his hands like hammers. 

“I wanna try on your clothes,” they sing in unison, then Usanagi gives them a finishing drum riff. 

Ignacio goes to double-check his amp before swinging his bass over his shoulder. “Well, should we get started?”

Julie throws him a smile over her shoulder, a happy warmth curling in her fingers. “I think we already have.” 

* * *

Of course, finding their groove isn’t as simple as that. It takes more after-work practice sessions to refine  _ exactly  _ what they want to do. Julie would like more classic. Usanagi’s fond of modern, a little grungier. Ignacio has always had a soft spot for British. Arcade doesn’t really have a preference, but he’s been listening to the Dirtbombs a lot, and he suggests more of a garage rock style.

In the end, they don’t exactly go with any of these styles. A mix is better, even if they’re a little less focused. To be fair, Julie thinks as she does her best to write up a summary of the band’s style for their website, their mixture is their  _ own  _ unique style. It’s probably best not to try and copy any particular thing anyways. 

“Red or black, do you think?” 

Ignacio peeks over her shoulder at the computer screen. It’s their lunch break, and they’re going over the band logo. “How about gray?”

“That wasn’t an option.” She adjusts the size of the plus sign-shaped symbol in the middle of the circle. “I was leaning towards red, to be kind of like the Red Cross symbol.” 

He slowly nods. Ignacio is not one to rush into things, and he claims to not have much of an eye for design. “Oh hey, maybe a darker red? Like blood?”

She snaps her fingers. “Yes, blood! Perfect!” 

“Perfect blood?” A new voice asks from behind them. 

Julie whirls, somehow managing to switch to a new tab at the same time. She’s always been quick with computers and good with her fingers. “Ah, Director! We were just talking about work, that one new blood test that Doctor Gannon is working on, I’m sure you’ve heard of it!” 

The Director of the  _ entire  _ hospital is known as Nicole to her friends. Julie, however, doesn’t know her that well, only having met her once, twice at the most. The main thing that Julie has noticed in the few times she’s seen a glimpse of the woman in the halls is her distinctive hair, dyed bright green and kept relatively short. There’s a spot on her eyebrow where it looks like she has a piercing, though she wears no visible jewelry. 

Nicole raises her eyebrows. “Yes. It’s very interesting. Well, have a nice day, both of you.” She gives them both a friendly smile, then continues on her way. 

* * *

“Our first concert, maybe.” Julie drops the flyer into Skype. “It doesn’t pay, but I thought it would be fun.” They haven’t even been practicing that long, but they have a couple of covers under their belts, and one or two original songs that they’re almost finished writing. Usanagi and Julie have taken the lead with composition, with the others giving suggestions and edits when needed. 

It’s a small event, a flyer from the gay bar downtown looking for live music for a fundraiser. Ignacio had sent her a picture of the flyer and had asked for her input. She didn’t know when she had become the unofficial coordinator for the band, but she was fine with it.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Usanagi says. “I know the owners too, so I’ll make sure they can set us up with whatever equipment we’ll need.” 

“I’m in.” Arcade is half-paying attention, his eyes skimming the flyer and checking the calendar in the corner of his computer screen. “It’s two weeks away, so we have plenty of time to get ready.” 

“Good. Ignacio, I know you agree too.” Julie quickly sets up a Google Calendar date, and pulls up the organizer’s email. “It’s our first gig!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from "Rebel Girl" by Bikini Kill, the song they were singing. 
> 
> OOoh boy this is a dumb fun fic! There's not going to be much serious plot in this one, just fun times and maybe (maybe?) a little bit of side romance! And get ready for some musical references ooh man so many references. Arcade Fire is a modern Canadian rock band, The Dirtbombs are an older Detroit garage rock/punk band (and I know someone who played in it!). 
> 
> Next chapter: It's not like School of Rock. Not at all. I said it's NOT School of Rock, Julie!


	2. I must be fine 'cause my heart's still beating

“It doesn’t really matter what we wear,” Ignacio argues, frowning. 

“Yes it does!” Usanagi says, echoed by Julie agreeing. Arcade isn’t disagreeing with them, so that means he’s outvoted. 

“Maybe we just could wear all black?” Arcade suggests. “Black jeans, black t-shirts, leather jackets-”

“We’re not the Ramones,” Usanagi quips. “We can’t be boring. That’s just classic now, that’s not really rebellious anymore.” 

Ignacio continues to try getting out of this. “Maybe we don’t need to match. Go all different directions, just wear whatever we want.” 

Julie drops a disapproving kitten photo into their Skype chat. “Boo. How about doctor-themed, maybe all lab coats?” 

“This isn’t  _ School of Rock,” _ Arcade complains. “We can’t do that. And that’s silly. We need something less silly.” He frowns at his closet behind him. He has his laptop open on his bed because he lives in the saddest bachelor pad ever that doesn’t have a bedside table or desk. “How about we have  _ one  _ thing matching, and the rest can be whatever we want?” 

Ignacio nods. “That’s acceptable. What were you thinking?” 

“Uhhhhh…” He didn’t really have an idea there. 

“Good one. How about shirts? Maybe a black button-up shirt?” Usanagi dives off screen to rummage through her closet. “Hold on, I actually just have a white one.” 

“Me too. How about you, Ignacio and Arcade?” They both agree. “Alright, that’s one piece down. At least we will be somewhat coordinated. Do you have any ideas for the rest of your outfits?” 

Usanagi comes back on-screen. “How about these?” She holds up a pair of pastel pink, blue, and white striped knee socks. “Julie, you could wear your rainbow ones.” 

“Wouldn’t that be...too much?” Arcade says, blushing. 

“We  _ are  _ playing at The Shed,” Ignacio argues. “I think we can afford to go a little crazier than normal. And you don’t have to wear anything special. Usa, do you still have that flower crown?”

She rummages off-screen for a second before pulling out a plastic flower crown in magenta, lavender, and blue with big black spikes sticking out between the flowers. “Yeah. You wanna borrow it? Be my guest.”

That means one part of his outfit is planned. Ignacio sighs and resigns himself to more outfit planning for the rest of the night.

* * *

He gets a text from Arcade just past six o’clock:  _ need outfit help plz.  _

When he gets to the other man’s apartment, he can see why. Clothing is strewn across every surface. When Arcade answers the door, he raises an eyebrow at Ignacio’s outfit. 

“That’s what you’re wearing?” He asks, seemingly unable to take it in all at once. “Oh.” 

Seeing that Arcade is still in his work clothes, Ignacio sighs and resigns himself to even  _ more  _ outfit planning. 

“No,” he vetoes, sitting on the bed. He looks up from a text from Julie to look at another pair of pants Arcade is showing him. “Absolutely not. Usa would kill you if you wore khakis. That’s not very punk rock.” 

There’s a few more minutes of rustling and silence before Arcade, shyly, says: “How about this?” 

Ignacio whistles. “Where did you even find those pants? You  _ own  _ that?”

Arcade has put on a pair of pastel blue skinny jeans, ripped in the knees and thighs. On the outside sides are two large upside-down crosses in black. “Good?” 

“Very good. Now what are you wearing on top with the white shirt?” 

“I don’t know, I was just going to button it up like normal. Okay, or not, judging by the look you’re giving me. I’m not going shirtless underneath like you, though. I can’t pull that off.” 

Ignacio leans back with one elbow propping him up. “We can’t take all night. How about that mesh shirt you wore last month-” At Arcade’s blush, he sighs. “Punk is all about pushing your limits. Besides, it’ll pull your look together with mine.” 

“That’s saying something.” Arcade nods at the ripped fishnet tights Ignacio’s wearing under black shorts that come to mid-thigh. “I think you’ve got the limit pushing part good enough for both of us- fine. I’ll wear it.” 

“Julie’s asking us if we’ve left yet. We’re on at eight, plus sound checks beforehand.” 

Arcade digs out a pair of worn military boots. “Tell her we’ll be ready in ten minutes-”

“Hair and makeup-”

“Twenty minutes, then.” 

Ignacio touches up his hair while Arcade drags black liquid eyeliner across his eyes in an exaggerated cat eye. Then Arcade liberally slathers dark purpleish-blue eyeshadow in what could be best described as a cross between a smoky eye and a shiner. He quickly ruffles his blond hair with a handful of gel, then declares himself ready to go after throwing a rainbow-print woven bracelet on one wrist. He takes his glasses case and contacts container with him, tucking it into a small bag over one shoulder. 

“You’re too pale to be doing that heavy of makeup,” Ignacio says, sighing and following him out the door. “Have you never learned moderation? Or contouring? Or anything besides the most goth shit ever?” 

“Moderation isn’t very punk rock,” Arcade retorts. 

* * *

It’s showtime, and Ignacio has lost the easy confidence he had before. He’s sitting next to Julie backstage, or what counts for backstage in this tiny place, really just a couple of chairs behind the curtain. 

“Hey,” Julie quietly says, nudging him. “What’s up?” 

He shrugs, nervously bouncing his leg and flipping a pick between his fingers. “Just nervous, I guess.” 

“Well it would be silly to tell you not to be. How about we get all of our anxiety out right now, then as soon as you pick up your bass, you leave it all backstage?” 

Julie always comes up with weird visualization tactics like this. “Okay, I guess.” 

They spend a minute deep breathing, Ignacio staring at the floor. Arcade and Usanagi join them and they spend a minute together in a rough circle, just breathing. 

Outside, the audience claps and cheers. 

“You guys are on,” Francine Garret says, poking her head backstage, having left the bar in her twin brother’s capable hands. “Nice socks, Usanagi. Good luck.” 

“Thank you,” Julie says. “We’ll try our best.” 

“What Julie means to say,” Usanagi cuts in, giving them all an excited grin, “is that we’ll knock it out of the fucking park.” 

They jog onto the stage. Ignacio’s hands are shaking, but he remembers what Julie said: leave it all behind as soon as he picks up his bass. It’s a comforting weight, the motion of slinging the strap over his shoulder comforting in itself. 

Julie looks back at him and grins wide, the stage lights glinting off the copious amounts of gel she’s put in her spiky hair. She’s in fine form, wearing a long white maxiskirt with a dangerously high slit in the side, showing off her rainbow tights. A black bowtie is askew in the collar of her white button-up shirt. “You ready?” 

Arcade gives her a thumbs-up. Usanagi grins. Her glittery pink boots and the collection of pins on her pink leather jacket sparkle. Ignacio smiles and mentally readies himself. 

“We’re so glad you could join us tonight,” Julie says to the crowd (don’t think about the crowd). “We’re the Followers of the Apocalypse. Remember, all proceeds from tonight go to the downtown shelter. Now, we’re going to start off with something we think you’ll like. A little song named ‘Rebel Girl’.” 

The crowd cheers as Usanagi starts beating out the starting rhythm. It’s a beat that stirs up Ignacio’s heart, and he finds himself grinning as he and Arcade start the main riff. Julie leans into the mic.

“That girl thinks she’s the queen of the neighborhood…”

* * *

“Nice job,” James Garret says, sliding a beer over to Ignacio. “They loved it.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” Ignacio breathlessly grins, still riding the high of a successful performance. 

James leans forward, letting his other employees handle the rest of the bar business. “Listen, if you guys are looking for gigs, I know the manager of the Helios theatre on the south side. Fyrst Rekon is playing there in two months, and I know they’re still looking for an opening act. I could put in a good word, send a video of you guys along.” 

“Wow, really?” Ignacio grins. “That’d be amazing. You’ve got Julie’s email too, right? I’ll tell her you said so. Thanks a lot, man.” 

“Hey, you guys have always been cool. It’s the least I can do. Now go hang with your friends.” 

* * *

“Who are you texting?” Ignacio asks, trying to peek over Usanagi’s shoulder at her phone.

“Nobody!” She says, quickly covering up the screen and shoving her phone inside her lunch bag. “Just these two girls I met last night at the show.” 

He raises his eyebrows and stabs his fork in his salad. “Two girls? Together or seperate?” 

She blushes. “Together. They’ve been Snapping me all morning. It probably won’t come to anything, but it’s nice to just hang out with some new people, you know?” 

“Yeah.” Ignacio thinks about how exhilarating and fun last night was. “You know, last night was great. I already told you what James said, but I also think we should be seriously considering the band as a permanent side hobby. I wasn’t sure at first, but I ended up really liking it.” 

Usanagi grins. Even more than Julie, she’s a very smiley person, always ready to give an encouraging smile or mischievous grin. “Me too. It probably helped that our first gig was in a smaller place and with a manager we already knew. The Helios is bigger than that, though, and Fyrst Rekon usually draws a pretty large crowd.” 

Ignacio’s phone buzzes. He unlocks it to see that Julie had sent a picture in their group text, which was called “Not School of Rock.” 

It’s a picture of a patch design for the Followers, with the attached message: “merch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Shed is a reference to a gay bar in Las Vegas called The Garage.   
> This chapter's title from "Fell in Love with a Girl" by the White Stripes. 
> 
> Oops have not updated in two months? I will try to have an update in less than two months next time...


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